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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664751">Ghosts and Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugrebellion/pseuds/junebugrebellion'>junebugrebellion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:29:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugrebellion/pseuds/junebugrebellion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war, Leia expected an adjustment period. She did not expect a practically-useless Senate, ghosts haunting her thoughts, and abilities she did not ask for. But, after one particularly terrible day at work, a welcome surprise reminds her of things she needs to hear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leia Organa/Han Solo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hanleia Holiday Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghosts and Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/gifts">Amilyn</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written as part of the HanLeia Celebration Fic Exchange for amilynh! Happy celebration! It was so fun writing for you again, and I hope you enjoy this fic! I loved your prompt, especially getting to take my Leia-centric dreams and just run with them!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This was becoming unbearable. A year and a half ago, the man in front of her had decried the Rebellion and sworn his allegiance to the Empire, had paid hundreds of thousands of credits for information to sell to Imperial sources. Now, he stood on the Senate floor. He was advocating for demilitarization of the New Republic, undoubtedly so that his donors hiding on the Outer Rim could rebuild their own forces. </p>
<p>Leia Organa wished she was the war-loving monster they made her in the press. Then, perhaps, she could justify her urge to leap to the Senate floor and tear this man apart piece by piece - whether rhetorically or with her teeth, she wasn’t sure. For now, she sat at her desk and dug her fingernails into her palms, counting the seconds. There was only so much time allowed on the floor, and then they could move on to some other disingenuous asshole’s speech. </p>
<p>Her eyes wandered over the other Senators, seeking to temper the anger growing in her with the faces of allies. <em> Allies, </em>she thought. When had she stopped considering them friends? When had this supposed peacetime become a war? Was she truly what they made of her in the tabloids? </p>
<p><em> A shame, </em> taunted a voice in her ear - one she recognized, one that clogged her throat and made her skin crawl. <em> Had things been different, you would have made a magnificent Imperial officer.  </em></p>
<p>With a clenched jaw, she turned to find a fleeting glimpse of Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin before his form dissipated, as though he’d been a trick of the light and she’d passed by a window. This was far from the first time. That had been on Coruscant, when she’d revisited the old Senate on her own. She’d seen his ghost when turning down a hall, and it had frozen her to the spot - with fear, with rage, with things so terrible she still couldn’t name them. For the rest of her time on-planet, he’d haunted every dark corner, whispering smug remarks and throwing her into spirals of grief and shattering memories. </p>
<p>Luke called it <em> psychometry, </em>a rare Force ability that imparted visions of the past, of people onto those who were “gifted” with the ability. Her therapist called it something different.</p>
<p>With a shaking breath, Leia glanced down to her hands and loosed their hold only to find that she’d clenched so tightly, her fingernails had left red half-moons in her palms. She closed her eyes and breathed in for four seconds, held for four seconds. Out for four, hold for four. In for four-</p>
<p>When she opened her eyes, she looked over her aides, seated in the same booth but at a lowered elevation so that she might tap their shoulders and speak to them, or that they might turn and speak to her. One was an Alderaanian man named Retas Taj, older than Leia by ten years or so. Prior to the Imperial Senate’s dissolution, he’d worked at the Alderaanian embassy on Chandrila. </p>
<p>He had a calmness about him, a steadiness that Leia had needed on the Senate floor. He moved with a careful grace. He preferred his tea near-burning and terribly sweet. </p>
<p>He was brilliant, of course - and helpful, and kind, and challenging when he needed to be - but it was no secret that part of the reason Leia had chosen him was because of his resemblance to her father. They’d spoken, after all. He’d spoken to her mother and father both, but Bail Organa was reflected in his dark eyes. If she looked too long, she’d hear his voice. <em> Starblossom, </em> he’d say, laughter on the edge, as though he was smiling as he spoke. <em> What are you doing here?  </em></p>
<p>Leia blinked, swallowed thickly. Today was going to be a bad day, then. </p>
<p>The other aide was a Togruta Junior Senator, part of the first class of the New Republic, who had respectfully requested <em> one Senator Leia Organa, if possible, as a mentor, </em>on their application. And Nehi Enosh had retained that respect since, even if their eagerness occasionally crossed a professional boundary, made them more like friends than coworkers. They were close in age, so Leia appreciated it. It felt almost like the Rogues, then, almost like -</p>
<p>Nehi turned, and Leia tried to force away the echoes of laughter and blaster fire. They were switching speakers at the podium, now, so a brief conversation wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. “Senator,” they said, eyebrows ever-so quizzical and uneven, “is everything alright?” </p>
<p>“Of course,” she said. She adjusted her notes and clicked her pen. “Why wouldn’t I be?” </p>
<p>Leia glanced to check the clock. There were only ten minutes left before the day’s meeting would be adjourned, and she sighed, then began chewing her lip. The next speech was likely of no consequence, something deliberately designed to not be paid attention to by the Senators. One vote, a yea or nay, and things would be finished. She used to be so passionate about this, but now, understanding what was a puff piece and what was squabbling to wring credits out of already destitute systems and what was blatant Imperial sympathy, she had lost so much of that spark. </p>
<p>The speaker that approached the stand was a young Twi’lek girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen. She began her speech in Twi’leki, and before Leia could even look up and ask for a translation, Threepio had come over to provide her with one. While an official translation in Basic appeared behind the girl, Leia found Threepio’s words - as she often did - more eloquent, if more flowery, than the Senatorial words. “Thank you,” she whispered, reaching to tap on his arm before jotting down notes.</p>
<p>The girl’s name was Lakreze, and she had come to the Senate because her father was an ambassador. She was requesting Senatorial approval for garden at the Rylothian embassy, one with fountains, and night-blooming flowers, and- </p>
<p>Leia stopped taking notes. Lakreze was a decent speaker. It was intimidating to speak in front of fifteen-hundred representatives in the Galactic Senate. But this was something that should have been settled at the embassy office with a sheet of paperwork, not brought before the Senate in a waste of time in what was likely a gross excuse for an exercise in public speaking. Leia would know; she’d designed the embassy system. </p>
<p>The motion passed, of course. Who would refuse this precious girl and her garden? And then the day was done, and nothing had changed, and the only real case Leia had listened to was a spoiled girl prattle on about what kind of flowers she wanted to see when she visited Hosnian Prime. </p>
<p>Leia rose to return to her office, as did Nehi and Retas. Normally, they had an end-of-day meeting to wrap up and prepare for the next day’s events, but what was the point? There would be more of the same senseless <em> fucking </em> chatter. <em> Starblossom, what are you </em> <b> <em>doing </em> </b> <em> here?  </em></p>
<p>“We won’t meet tonight,” she said to the both of them, making sure to smile in her practiced, princess way. “Enjoy your early night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” </p>
<p>Briefly, they glanced from her to each other. It wasn’t often that they spoke, but now, there was something unspoken between them. It didn’t last long, though, and soon they were taking the flanking staircases to the hallway behind her. </p>
<p>“Evening, Princess,” Retas said with a small bow of his head. </p>
<p>“Goodnight, Senator,” Nehi said, hanging back a moment too long. </p>
<p>Their footsteps joined the thousands leaving the Senate hall, and Leia sighed amid the cacophony. She allowed the weight, comfortable in its unbearable familiarity, to descend on her shoulders as she closed her eyes. She rubbed at the back of her neck and wished, not for the first time, that Han was here. He’d been gone for a few weeks on a job, and it would be at least another week until he could return. He would have something to say about this, something funny and pithy that would make her feel righteous in her anger instead of hollow. </p>
<p>“Princess Leia?” asked Threepio, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked back to him with a hand over her heart. The Senate was nearly empty now, meaning she’d been sitting here for some time. Bless Threepio, then, for putting up with her. “Are we to return to your office?” </p>
<p>“I - yes. We are.” She began to collect her things in her purse, and Threepio leaned down to help. She quietly thanked him, and soon, they were up and making stiff small talk as they made the long walk to her office. </p>
<p>Once there, Leia sat at a different desk and began the task of catching up with the speeches she hadn’t paid attention to. She retrieved her datapad and began pulling up transcripts and holovids. “Threepio?” she asked. </p>
<p>“Yes, Princess Leia?” he asked, eager in a way different than usual. There was pity in it. </p>
<p>She gritted her teeth, then breathed. “Would you work on preparing a Twi’leki lesson for me? I should really get a better grasp on the language.” </p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” he said, bending forward and back just slightly. <em> Professor, </em>she heard in Han’s voice, and a smile tugged at her lips. “Would you like that in a holovideo, or-” </p>
<p>“Could you teach me?” </p>
<p>He was quiet a moment, but then his eyes seemed to light up a bit brighter. “Of course! Absolutely, Princess. By all means. I will get to this straight away. Where should I work?” </p>
<p>This helped. This had to help. “You can set up for tonight at Nehi’s desk, but we’ll have to rearrange tomorrow.” </p>
<p>“Absolutely, your Highness,” he said, and he went off, buzzing about phonetics and hand signs and how to properly convey organic motion in a synthetic body. In truth, she’d done this as an act of good, but also to give herself space. She needed to think, to be alone, to breathe. </p>
<p>So she got to work. It only took a while for her mind to float away, to find the comfortable space she could only locate when alone; here, her mind would reach back, discovering that she could remember everything from the day as though she’d paid rapt attention. </p>
<p>Threepio interrupted. Asked if she wanted tea. She refused curtly, apologized for her tone, then refused more politely. Got back to work. </p>
<p>It was like photographic memory with footnotes, things she hadn’t even realized she’d noticed. The Imperial sympathizer was sweating and glancing to Chancellor Mon Mothma as though he was guilty, as though he knew he did not belong here despite being invited. The Twi’lek girl was dressed in Hosnian fashion, not Rylothian, to appeal to the Senators. </p>
<p>This ability had been important in her time in the Rebellion. Now, it felt frivolous. It was dressing to things she already knew, and it was unfair. How much had this helped her without her knowing when she had been a girl? Had she deserved the Senate seat for Alderaan when the planet still existed? Surely, that was the only reason she had it now. </p>
<p>And if she had the ability, why hadn’t she done anything? She was strong in the Force. Luke said so, and she felt it, now, no matter how hard she tried to hide it for the press. And now, sitting in a useless Senate, it appeared that’s how the ability worked. She’d used it once usefully - to save Luke. Every other time, it had been a way to cheat to the top. When it would have counted, when she could have saved her people, her family, her men - or even now, when she could do something productive with it - it all fell away to this. Photographic memory. Useless details. Ghosts in her head. </p>
<p>Her hands were shaking, and her breathing was getting away from her. In for four, hold for four, out for four- </p>
<p>
  <em> The breathing, that horrible, even breathing, down the halls and in her ears and in her head, steady an reverberating and stalking her as she sat here useless and small and scared and alone-  </em>
</p>
<p>“Sweetheart.” </p>
<p>Leia opened her teary eyes to find her office lights on, her holoscreen dim with disuse. But beyond the transparent screen was Han Solo, tired but half-smiling, his hand on the light switch and five o’clock shadow on his chin. “Han?” she asked, her voice cracking. </p>
<p>His face changed to hear her, and he moved to come closer. “Hey,” he said, voice gentle but not pitying, kind and exactly what she needed as he perched on her desk. He reached to tuck stray hairs from her fraying braids behind her ear. “I thought you fell asleep in your office, baby. It was dark when I walked in.” </p>
<p>“What time is it?” she asked, a step behind. He was supposed to be in Pamarthe, lightyears away from here, not back for days. She blinked, then laughed. “What are you <em> doing </em>here?” </p>
<p>He smiled, wiped his thumb under her eye and did not mention her tears. “Threepio called me a few hours ago,” he said, and Leia felt her heart twist with the warm recognition of being cared for by another. “But, you know. I turned around two days ago. Felt like…” </p>
<p>Leia took his hand and squeezed. Something unspoken, some connection. The thing where she knew when he was cold in the night, the thing where he knew when she needed held. Perhaps the Force was not so useless. “Felt right,” she said, her thumb moving over his knuckles. </p>
<p>Han put his foot on her chair, pulled her closer as she rolled her eyes and smiled. “What’s up with you?” he asked. “In your office ‘till dark is par for the course, but ‘till dark and nothing on, that’s something else.” </p>
<p>She glanced to the door adjoining her office to the offices of her aides, then remembered that Nehi and Retas weren’t here, so she set her chin on Han’s knee. “I hate my job,” she sighed, looking up at him with deep, dark eyes. “I think the New Republic is doomed to fail because of infighting and useless bureaucracy and Imperial sympathy, and I’m just going to watch.” </p>
<p>He blew air through his teeth, producing a small whistling sound. “Tall order, sweetheart,” he muttered. </p>
<p>As though his gentle commiseration wasn’t enough, he reached down to her braids and began to pull the pins free, setting them on her desk. She whimpered softly, moving to put her forehead to his shin as she breathed. For a while, they sat in quiet silence, and the weight on her shoulders was lessened - not halved, perhaps, but the weight was not so great. </p>
<p>Eventually, Han said, “Okay, I’ve got it.” </p>
<p>Leia pulled away from him to meet his eyes with a skeptical look. “You figured out how to fix the New Republic in the past minute?” </p>
<p>“It’s been at least two, for starters,” he teased, then dropped another pin to her desk. “And yes. What do you expect?” </p>
<p>That made her laugh, and she looked down to their joined hands and squeezed once more. “Alright, then. Hit me.” </p>
<p>Han looked to her face, his own losing the slightly cocky expression of their comfortable back and forth. “Well, for starters, it’s not going to fall apart. I know the people who put it together - know one of ‘em pretty damn well - and I think she’s pretty good at her job, so. It ain’t gonna fall to pieces when someone blows on it.” </p>
<p>Leia took a breath and sat up in her chair, her shoulders rolling back. “Han-” </p>
<p>“Don’t <em> Han </em> me yet,” he said, imitating her for a moment before dropping it. “Second, if you hate your job - <em> really </em>hate your job…” With that, he brought his hand to her face, cradling her cheek for a moment. His thumb moved over her cheekbone, holding her like she was precious but not delicate. This was it, why she loved him, why she wanted to spend the rest of her life like this. “Then I will take you somewhere far. Real far. Anywhere you want, and you just say the word.” </p>
<p>For a moment, Leia let that hang, studying the gentle severity on his face. He’d offered things like this before, usually whispered against her skin in bed, after the fact when they were dazed and half-asleep. To hear it like this was something different. It felt like it was an option. “Are you serious?” </p>
<p>“Of course I am, Lei,” he whispered.” His thumb moved over her lips. “If this stops being what you want, I will find you something else.” </p>
<p>It was a comfort. It was warm and sweet and clinging to her throat like she’d swallowed honey, but it was choking her the same. “I couldn’t do that.” </p>
<p>He smiled sadly. “I know,” he said, looking fondly at her. “Because you love this, Leia. Because - <em> thirdly - </em>if it all goes to shit, you wouldn’t just watch. That ain’t you.” </p>
<p>She considered that for a moment, leaning into his palm, then smiled. Through her lashes, she looked up to him. “You’re right,” she said softly, knowing that if they were teasing, he’d gloat. Knowing that now, he wouldn’t. “You know me.” </p>
<p>“I love you,” he countered - or perhaps agreed. He took their held hands and kissed her knuckles. </p>
<p>Leia stood, then kissed him right. It was soft, quick, sweet. She wanted to go home with him, wanted to eat dinner and complain about work but try again - try harder - tomorrow. It would not be fixed tonight. In the morning, there would be ghosts, there would be trauma, there would be mess and war and threats to deal with still. She would be frustrated and angry and upset beyond words. She would feel the loss, the emptiness. </p>
<p>But that would not be all. There would be other things, better things. It was easier, she knew, with him - with Nehi and Retas and Threepio and everyone. Simply put, she was not in this alone. “Take me home,” said to Han, reaching up to ruffle her hand through his hair. “I’ve got work tomorrow.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, kudos are appreciated and comments are loved! Thanks so much!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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